Time and Again

be remembered. The candles guttered out, but they were still wrapped together.
    Then, though the words were never spoken, they knew it was the last time. His hands seemed that much more gentle, her lips that much softer.
    When it was over, the beauty left her weak and weepy. In defense, she curled against him and prayed for sleep. She couldn't bear to watch him go.
    He lay still, wakeful until the first faint hints of light crept into the room. He was grateful she slept; he would never have been able to say goodbye. When he rose it hurt, a sharp, sweet ache that rocked him.
    Moving quickly, struggling to keep his mind blank, he pulled on the jumpsuit she'd set out for him.
    Afraid of waking her, he touched only her hair, then moved quietly out of the room. Libby opened her eyes only when she heard the soft click of the cabin door. Turning her face into the pillow, she let the tears come.
    The ship was secured, and the calculations were plotted. Cal sat on the bridge and watched night fade.
    It was important that he take off before sunrise. He had the timing down to a millisecond. There was little room for error. His life depended on it.
    But his thoughts kept drifting back to Libby. Why hadn't he known it would hurt this badly to leave? Yet he had to leave. His life, his time, weren't here with hers. There was no use going over again what he had already agonized over a dozen times.
    Still, he sat while precious moments clicked away.
    Prepare for standard orbital flight.
    "Yes," he told the computer absently. Instruments began to hum. In a way that was second nature to him, Cal prepared for take off. He paused again, staring at the viewscreen.
    All systems ready. Ignition at your discretion.
    "Right. Commence countdown."
    Commencing. Ten, nine, eight, seven-
    From the kitchen doorway, Libby heard the rumble. Impatient, she rubbed tears from her eyes and strained to see. There was a flash. She thought she caught a quick glint of metal streaking across the lightening sky. Then it was gone. The woods were quiet again.
    She shivered. She wished she could convince herself it was because the air was chill and she was wearing only her short blue robe.
    "Be safe," she murmured. Then gave in and allowed herself the luxury of a few more tears.
    Life went on, she lectured herself. The birds were beginning to sing. The sun was nearly up.
    She wanted to die.
    That was nonsense. Shaking herself, she set the kettle on to boil. She was going to have a cup of tea, wash the dishes they'd been too careless to notice the night before. Then she was going back to work.
    She would work until she couldn't keep her eyes open, and then she would sleep. She would get up again and work again until her dissertation was complete. It would be the best damn paper her colleagues had ever read. And then she'd travel.
    And she would miss him until the day she died.
    When the kettle boiled, she poured her tea, then sat with it at the kitchen table. After a moment, she shoved it aside, laid her head on her folded hands and wept again.
    "Libby."
    She knocked the chair over as she rose. He was there, standing in the doorway, fatigue all over his face and something, something much more powerful, in his eyes. She rubbed hers. He couldn't be there.
    "Caleb?"
    "Why are you crying?"
    She heard him. Dazed, she pressed a hand against her ear. "Caleb." She repeated. "But how-I heard, I saw-You're gone."
    "Have you been crying since I left?" He stepped toward her but only touched a fingertip to her damp cheek.
    His touch was real. If she was mad, she accepted it. "I don't understand. How can you be here?"
    "I have a question to ask you first." He dropped his hands to his sides. "Just one question. Are you in love with me?"
    "I-I need to sit down."
    "No." He caught her arm and held her still. "I want an answer. Are you in love with me?"
    "Yes. Only an idiot would have to ask."
    He smiled, but his grip held firm. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"
    "Because I didn't want-I knew you had to go." Dizzy, she put a hand to her head. "Let me sit."
    He released her, then watched her sink unsteadily into a chair.
    "I haven't slept," she murmured, as if to herself. "I suppose I could be hallucinating."
    He tilted her head back, then planted a hard, bruising kiss on her mouth. Before he could stop himself, he dragged her halfway out of the chair. "Is that real enough for you?"
    "Yes," she said weakly. "Yes. But I don't understand. How can you be here?"
    He let her go again. "I